


Victim of the Red Shadow

by MoonlightBreeze



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland Friendship, Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alec Lightwood Feels, Alec Lightwood Loves Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood Needs A Hug, Alec Lightwood-centric, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Fuck Canon, Gen, Good Parabatai Jace Wayland, Good Sibling Isabelle Lightwood, Hurt Alec Lightwood, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Parabatai Feels, Post-Canon, Pre-Epilogue, Punching, Relapsing, Self-Harm, Self-Harming Alec Lightwood, Supportive Isabelle Lightwood, Supportive Jace Wayland, Supportive Magnus Bane, Understanding Magnus Bane, Worried Jace Wayland, Worried Magnus Bane, also no one loses their memories, because I said it once and I'll say it again, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24036514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightBreeze/pseuds/MoonlightBreeze
Summary: Alec's better. He really is. Ever since marrying Magnus, Alec is the best he's ever been. That doesn't mean he doesn't slip up sometimes.Or, in which Alec relapses on an old habit and his siblings & husband are there for him in the aftermath.Contains canon-typical self harm. Hopeful/happy ending.
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Isabelle Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & Isabelle Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Magnus Bane & Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 21
Kudos: 205





	Victim of the Red Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! This idea came to me on a whim when I was trying to plan my next fic, so here we are. I'll admit, this was actually hard for me to write. That kind of recovery and feeling like you're over it isn't something I have any experience with, yet. Nevertheless, I persisted! 
> 
> There is a trigger warning for self-harm in the form of punching/show-typical self harm, so please keep yourselves safe <3 Without further ado, let's get to the fic! I really hope you like this! Kudos make my day and comments validate my existence, so please leave those, if you want :) And as always, I hope you have a wonderful day/night!
> 
> ~ Em

Alec could feel it humming just beneath his skin. He swore it was almost alive sometimes. The urge, the temptation, the _hunger_ for pain. For blood. The desire to punch and punch a bag in the training room until his knuckles split or fire arrows from his bow until only weeping slivers of his palms remained. He knew he shouldn’t want it, not now; not with a wonderful husband waiting for him and not when he was sitting in the chair reserved for the leader of a relatively peaceful Institute. 

Alec knew that, by all logic and reason, he should be over this dark, shameful part of him. 

But on days like that day, when it hit him out of nowhere, it felt like it had never left. 

Alec sat behind his desk and fiddled with the wedding ring on his finger. His mind wandered from the stack of paperwork in front of him to the way his hands practically trembled with the desire to be doing something a little more forceful than signing his name on dozens of release forms and Clave resolutions. His chest felt tight and he was on edge, unable to sit still. Unconsciously, he began to dig his thumbnail into the patch of skin between his thumb and his forefinger. 

The pain washed over him like a drug, and he welcomed it with a choked sort of breath that sounded a lot like a sigh of relief. 

_Just a little bit._

_Just a little won’t hurt anything._

When Alec regained his senses, he was surprised to see little purple marks on his hands. He hadn’t been aware of how hard he was pressing. 

Alec felt full of something, some nervous energy that threatened to spill over the edge sooner rather than later. His hands practically ached with temptation. His bow and quiver rested next to the fireplace in his office, where he’d hastily placed them after an impromptu mission that morning. Alec found himself eyeing the weapons, wishing for the sting of the bow string as it snapped back onto his hands. In his mind’s eye, Alec remembered all of the other times he’d made himself bleed with that bow. They ran through his mind like a slideshow of his lowest moments. Alec’s thumb brushed over the thin, silvery scars that lined his calloused archer’s hands, proof of the destruction that bow had caused in his younger years. Scars that no one else ever seemed to notice. 

Alec’s gaze fell to the black leather archer’s gloves that rested on the mantelpiece. He remembered a time when it was rare for them to be on his hands. Ever since marrying Magnus and resolving the residual problems left by the journey to Edom and the killing of Johnathan, there were only a few occurrences of them being absent, and those were fixed with an iratze much quicker than they would have been if it were on purpose. 

Alec couldn’t deny it; he was proud of himself.

He’d grown so much from the hollow shell of a man he used to be.

So then why did he still feel this way, still crave the sting and the pain and the blood like all of those years of progress meant nothing?

He closed his eyes, just for a minute, and tried to focus on happy things, things he’d been looking forward to. Spending the weekend with Magnus. Having dinner with Izzy. Going to the movies with Clary and Simon. Sparring with Jace. 

Alec let a breath of air puff past his lips, ignoring the voice in his head that whispered that maybe sparring with Jace in his current state of mind wasn’t such a good idea. 

As if on cue, Jace walked in and sat across from Alec, smiling wide. “Ready to spar?”

“Sure,” Alec replied numbly. Jace arched one of his eyebrows and his smile disappeared, replaced with a frown. 

“Are you okay, Alec?”

“I’m fine,” Alec replied, looking everywhere but at Jace. Jace’s eyes fell to his hands, and his gaze softened, taking in the little marks that littered Alec’s skin. 

“I don’t think you are,” Jace said softly. He stood up and took out his phone. “You stay here. We’re not sparring today.”

Alec opened his mouth to protest, but Jace cut him off. “No. Clearly you’re not in a good headspace right now, Alec, and I’m not encouraging that shit.” 

Alec huffed in response but gave up the fight. He gestured to the phone in Jace’s hands. “Who are you calling?”

“Magnus.”

“What? Why?!”

“Because I know you’re too stubborn to call him yourself,” Jace replied. 

“Jace, you don’t need to call him at all,” Alec groused. “I’m fine. Seriously.”

Jace sighed and rested a firm hand on his parabatai’s shoulder. “I stopped believing that the day you said it and I found you in the training room a few hours later, your hands all beat to hell.”

Alec winced. “That was a long time ago, Jace. I’m not the same person I was back then.”

“I know you’re not,” Jace said softly, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t want it sometimes. You’re allowed to have bad days, Alec.”

Alec shook his head resolutely. “No. Not me. Not now.”

Jace shook his head in disagreement and lifted the phone to his ear, presumably to follow through on his promise of calling Magnus. Alec rose from his chair and approached him, snatching the phone from Jace’s hands. 

“You don’t need to call Magnus,” Alec snapped, “and stop treating me like a child. I can handle myself, Jace.”

“I know you can,” Jace stressed, reaching for his phone, which Alec still clutched in his injured hands. “But even the strongest people need a reminder to take care of themselves sometimes.”

“I am taking care of myself,” Alec protested.

“If you were, you’d take the day off,” Jace countered. “Go home and spend some time with Magnus. Or, hell, if you don’t want to do that, you can hang out with me. We can read in the library or help Izzy cook so she doesn’t burn the Institute down.”

Alec cracked a small smile at that, but his gaze was still hard and unwavering as he said, “That’s a nice offer, but I have work to do.”

Jace sighed and ran the pad of his thumb over the small indentations in Alec’s skin. He looked up to meet Alec’s eyes, and Alec hoped that the ice blue orbs would conceal how off-kilter and overwhelmed he felt. 

“Alright,” Jace relented. Alec smiled at him and handed over his phone. “But if you need me, you know where I am.”

Alec nodded and pulled his parabatai into a brief but tight hug. “Thanks, Jace.”

“Of course. Hang in there, buddy.”

With that, Jace left, shutting the door behind him. Alec sank into his chair once more, dropping his head into his hands. Truth be told, he knew he probably should have accepted the blonde’s offer and gone home, or at least gotten away from the ever-present thrum of want that seemed to live beneath his skin. But it had been _years_ since Alec felt like this, and he was desperate to prove he could deal with it by himself, without any outside help. 

Alec picked up his pen again, determined to finish as much paperwork as he could before he went home for the night. He subconsciously began to bite his lip as his eyes scanned the pages and his fingers robotically wrote his name on the lines provided in elegant, swirly strokes. 

The words on the reports began to blur together. Alec struggled to comprehend what he read as he blindly signed when needed. Finally, when the stack had begun to dwindle and his mind had begun to wander, Alec abandoned the paperwork and started for the door, picking up his bow and quiver on his way out. His archer’s gloves laid untouched on the mantelpiece. 

Alec made his way to the training room, fingers already itching for something real, something tangible to hold onto. He would stop before it got too far, he reasoned with himself. He wouldn’t make himself bleed. He just needed to take the edge off. 

Alec was about to lift his bow skyward when he caught sight of a punching bag hanging from the ceiling in his peripheral vision. He placed his bow and quiver back in their rightful spot on the wall and made his way over to the punching bag.

Wrapping his hands crossed his mind for a fleeting moment, but it was gone before he could find the willpower to stop himself from punching the bag with all of his might. 

Pure, unadulterated relief washed over Alec with the force of his blow, and he greedily rushed forward to place another one. The ache that started up in his hands calmed him, centered him; made him feel like he was in control of himself and his emotions. 

Alec kept punching.

In the wake of the brutal beating, Alec didn’t notice when someone else entered the training room and stood in the doorway, watching. Alec began another scathing attack on the bag, ignoring the sound of his knuckles splitting as he did so. A wave of guilt and self-loathing so potent it might as well have been alcohol to an addict’s lips ran through Alec, and he stumbled back and away from the punching bag. He looked down at his hands.

Blood seeped from his torn knuckles and his fingers were bruised, his palms covered in little marks from his nails when he clenched his hands into fists. Alec let out a sigh, the tension leaving his body with the blood from his knuckles. He leant forward and rested his head on the punching bag, breathing heavily. 

It had happened again.

He had failed. Again.

The soft sound of someone clearing their throat had Alec whirling around, his hands immediately seeking refuge behind his back from any prying eyes. He relaxed slightly when he recognised Magnus; his husband stood leaning against the doorway, wearing a look of concern and sadness.

“Magnus,” Alec mumbled, and that was all he needed to say.

Magnus hurried forward and managed to catch Alec just before his knees hit the ground. Magnus righted him and kept an arm around his shoulders while Alec tried to catch his breath. 

“Are you okay, darling?” Magnus asked, still steadying him with one hand on his chest. Alec nodded, letting his hair that was previously stuck to his forehead with sweat fall to cover his eyes, which he trained resolutely on the floor. 

“I’m fine,” Alec replied. “Just a little out of breath, that’s all.”

Magnus nodded but didn’t say anything else. He allowed Alec a few more seconds to regain control of himself before he was taking Alec’s hand slowly, cautiously, and leading them from the training room. 

“Why’d you come?” Alec asked. “I wasn’t late. It’s not time for dinner yet.”

“Jace called me,” Magnus admitted. “He said you were having a hard day but wouldn’t admit it and he wanted me to try and talk some sense into you.”

Alec closed his eyes. Of course Jace had called him. He should have known his parabatai wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

“I’m glad he did,” Magnus said softly, caressing the broken skin of Alec’s hand with his thumb. 

Alec scoffed, avoiding Magnus’s gaze. “You can’t honestly tell me you like this.”

Magnus frowned. “Well, no, I don’t like it when you hurt yourself, darling. But I would much rather find out after the fact than have it concealed from me altogether.”

When Alec didn’t reply to that, Magnus didn’t speak any more either, content to let the silence stretch on. They reached Alec’s office, where Jace was waiting with Izzy. They wore matching looks of concern and sadness, and they rose to their feet when Magnus and Alec entered the room.

Alec was tired, drained, defeated; the last thing he wanted was some sort of intervention or a conversation about what he could have done differently. He _knew_ what he should have done. It was his mistake, and he didn’t want to talk about it any more than he had to. 

“How bad?” It was Jace who finally spoke up, gesturing to Alec’s hands, which he still held behind his back. 

“Not that bad,” Alec lied. 

“Alexander,” Magnus chastised him. 

Alec rolled his eyes and said, “It’s _not_.” He glared at his husband and watched as the expressions on Izzy and Jace’s faces shifted to ones of frustration. 

“Somehow I believe Magnus more than you right now, big brother,” Izzy said, coming up behind him to examine his hands in greater detail. Jace joined her a second later, both of them scrutinizing the damage Alec had inflicted upon himself in the training room.

A second later, Jace was storming back to the desk chair, sinking down in it and trying to rein in his anger. Alec felt his jaw tighten into a straight line, and guilt flooded through him.

“I _told_ you, Alec,” Jace said. “I told you to take the day off, to go home or spend time with me. You had every opportunity to take me up on my offer. And you went to the training room instead. Again.” He scoffed and made to leave the room. “Shows how much you care about the two of us.”

Izzy rose from her seat to go after him, but Alec stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. Let him go.”

She slumped back in Alec’s desk chair and murmured, “He’s just upset that you’re doing this again, Alec, okay? He didn't mean it. He knows you care about us, and he knows one doesn’t have anything to do with the other.”

“Thanks, Iz.”

“So, you know I’m going to ask,” Magnus spoke up for the first time since they’d arrived in Alec’s office. “Why didn’t you come to me, or one of your siblings?”

“I thought I could handle it,” Alec mumbled. “It’s been so long. I thought I had it under control.”

“Translation: You felt stupid for having urges again because everything is okay right now and you don’t have any reason to feel this way,” Izzy said. “Newsflash, Alec: The world doesn’t have to be ending for you to feel bad.”

Alec chuckled softly, but didn’t reply. Magnus squeezed his hand and said, “Your sister is right, you know. No one here will ever fault you or think differently of you for still needing help on days when it seems like nothing should be wrong.”

Alec felt tears rise to his eyes and he blinked them away quickly, before anyone could see. What had he done to deserve such a wonderful, understanding family?

There was a hesitant knock on the door and Jace stepped through, looking contrite and avoiding Alec’s eyes. “I’m sorry for running out,” he mumbled. “I just wish you could feel better, Alec.”

Alec sighed and said, “I wish I could, too.”

Jace walked the few paces left until he was standing directly in front of Alec. “I love you, parabatai,” he said, and brought Alec into a hug. Before long, Izzy had wedged her way in between the two of them and Magnus brought his arms around all three of them. 

The hug lasted for a few minutes, and nothing was said. Everyone was simply content to live in the moment, enjoy the presence of each other. When they finally parted, Izzy and Jace left Alec with a few more words of encouragement and reassurance before departing from Alec’s office. Magnus pressed a soft, tender kiss to his husband’s lips, a kiss that spoke of so many things: _I’m here. I love you. I’m sorry you’re hurting. Talk to me. I love you._

Alec sank into his desk chair and avoided Magnus’s gaze. 

Magnus took a seat in the chair across from him and waited.

When Alec finally decided to speak, it was nearing nightfall and the moon cast silvery shadows over his damaged hands. He paused, rubbing his thumb and his forefinger together in preparation for the upcoming conversation. 

“It’s been years since I’ve felt like this,” Alec began. “I thought I was over it.”

“The worst demons have a way of reappearing when you least expect them,” Magnus replied. 

“I thought I could handle it myself,” Alec continued. “I was desperate to prove I could handle a little slip-up without getting anyone else involved. And then once I started punching, I just...couldn’t stop.”

Magnus nodded and leaned over the desk to place a chaste kiss on Alec’s lips. “Hopefully, next time, you won’t feel so bad about talking to your siblings.”

“And husband,” Alec reminded him with a smile on his face. 

“And husband,” Magnus echoed. 

A few more beats’ worth of silence passed before Magnus said, “Do you want to go home, darling? I have some mouthwatering lasagna waiting for you.”

“Yes, please,” Alec responded. 

Magnus opened a portal and they stepped through it into the loft, where Alec felt his gaze soften as he took in all of the things that made that loft home. The books resting on the nightstand. The episode of Project Runway frozen on the TV. The cats that crowded the balcony, meowing pitifully and begging Magnus to feed them for what was certainly not the first time that day. 

And, finally, of course, Magnus himself.

Later that evening, after lasagna and cuddling, Alec climbed into bed with Magnus, his wounds healed and his mind no longer in tatters. As Magnus’s arms reached for him in the bed and encircled his middle, Alec found himself wondering if perhaps this latest relapse hadn’t erased all of his progress, but rather given him a new goal to work towards.

Alec pressed himself closer to Magnus in the bed and closed his eyes. 

Tomorrow, he promised himself, he would start anew.

**Author's Note:**

> [Stalk me on Tumblr](http://moonlight-breeze-44.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Prompts are open!
> 
> Want to embrace your inner chaotic fandom participant? Require somewhere to scream about Shadowhunters and other fandoms? Need writing advice, encouragement, or new friends? [Join our Discord server](https://discord.gg/82pvdE39fD) and find your place in a community of fandom-ers livin' it up! We welcome everyone, and we would love to have you. <3
> 
> With that being said, I'll see you guys soon! 
> 
> ~ Em


End file.
